I went to the zoo and saw there were a hundred people there just like me. They all wanted to look at entertaining animals and feed the sea lions and give candy to the otters even though they were not supposed to. There were a hundred people not like me, too. The beleaguered parents, wardens of a three-foot radius as their offspring squirmed and squinted in the midday sun. Three hundred children screamed like ten thousand cicadas at their parents, at the heat, at the lack of entertaining elephants and exotic birds. They screamed for sandwiches and ice cream and soda from the vending machines. They screamed for impossibly expensive plastic dinosaurs and stuffed giraffes from the gift shop. They cried and stomped and howled and leaked tears like little broken water mains until they were appeased or shamed into a brooding silence that evaporated into the atmosphere and ruined yet another beautiful spring day.